


the gardener

by Teahound



Series: a garden of thorns (Dream SMP one-shots) [2]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Drabble, Gen, c!Dream is terrifying and I wanted to write about it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:29:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28092435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teahound/pseuds/Teahound
Summary: Dream is a gardener. And he's finally found a way to uproot the most stubborn of weeds; Tommy Innit and the young President Tubbo.A short character study of Dream in light of recent events.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Clay | Dream & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit
Series: a garden of thorns (Dream SMP one-shots) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2058096
Comments: 12
Kudos: 105





	the gardener

Dream is a gardener. 

He plucks out weeds, plants new saplings, tends his orderly rows, protects his plants from parasites. Things can grow a little wild; he doesn’t mind that, as long as he has control. As long as the garden remembers who has the pruners and the pesticides. 

The garden has its thorns, and since the beginning, L’manburg has been a field full of nettles. After all, it began simply to defy him, and despite his best efforts, no amount of weedkiller seems capable of eradicating the stubborn little nation from the earth. 

He thought he’d finally crushed the pests when he’d captured Eret’s loyalty with the promise of a crown. He thought he’d taken out the root when Wilbur Soot died in a self-destructive burst of ruination. He’d stolen away Fundy’s heart, and taken Tommy’s disks, and burned Tubbo’s house. He’s whittled away at those five obstinate soldiers year by year, and yet, L’manburg still remains.

In fact, it’s as strong as it ever was, because, as he sees it now, the heart was still left beating. Because in the end, it’s those two. If L’manburg is a garden of thorns, they’re a rosebush in and of themselves. Two boys, similar and different. One is built for war and one is fighting for peace, and they cling to one another like climbing vines. 

What do you do with two souls like this? 

He thinks he knows how. It’s a simple process really, in the end. You tear them apart from within. You separate them, and isolate them, and befriend them. And then you break them. You teach them to obey, until they need you and you can tell them where to go, and if you say dance, they dance. 

The boy president feels the weight of a nation on his shoulders. He’s alone, not exiled or betrayed, but alone nonetheless. He’s got no equal in power, and his predecessors have failed brutally, and are gone or ghosts. His cabinet cannot see what he sacrifices for his nation, and turn on him, causing him more trouble then help. 

_Do this one thing for me_ you tell him. _Obey me in this one thing. Send your friend away, and you have control again._

And once he’s done that for you, you offer rewards. You tell him you’re proud. You say the words he desperately wants to hear, promise that he’s doing the right thing. You respect his laws, and recognize his land. You let him believe he’s bested you. You become a friend, a confidant, and you remind him that it’s all because he listened to you. Next time you ask him for something, he will not, can not, refuse you. 

The loud one, Wilbur’s protege full of loyalty and fire, he’s the real problem. He’s never bloomed, just sprouted more thorns, and Dream’s hands bleed when he tries to pull him from the dirt. So must be uprooted, and taken away from the rest, where he can’t touch them, transplanted in a distant shore, isolated and betrayed.

The angry boy, he’s a little more complicated. He’s the avatar of everything that problematic nation stood for; defiance and stubborn determination. He’s not interested in cooperating. He feels responsible for nothing and is harder to sway. You must break him slowly, feeding him on lies and poisoned friendship. 

_Put your things in the pit,_ you tell him, and at first he fights as hard as ever. You have to force his hand, like always. But slowly he grows tired. A week passes, and then another, and he begins to depend on you, as much as he fears you. You don’t leave him alone, and desperate for companionship, he turns to you. You encourage him on his various projects, and you let him believe you’re the only one who cares. _They’ve forgotten all about you. They’re glad you’re gone. That world is better without you in it._

Oh, the boy doesn't want to believe it, but he will. 

And then one day you’ll tell him _put your things in the pit_ and all that fire will be gone, just a quiet echo of that fierceness. A shadow of that boy who wasn’t afraid of you. Who threw all caution to the wind when even Wilbur knew it was time to surrender. He’ll even light the dynamite for you with nothing but a mumbled, _I don’t want to._

Dream is a gardener, and he waters and weeds and moves the gardens to his preferred order. He didn’t blow up L’manburg. He never has, he never needed to. He had Eret, and Wilbur Soot, and Technoblade, all on their little strings, to do that for him. 

And now he has Tubbo and Tommy, finally, finally, their own ribbons tied round their necks, his pretty little marionettes that will dance however he wishes, growing where he wants them, all alone. 


End file.
